


The Sixth Test

by Temaris



Category: Thundercats
Genre: Bondage, Community: kink_bingo, F/M, Foursome, Kinks, M/M, Multi, PWP, coming of age ritual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-15
Updated: 2009-08-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 16:48:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Temaris/pseuds/Temaris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lion-O has one last test to undertake before he is truly Lord of the Thundercats.  His three mentors have one last duty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sixth Test

**Author's Note:**

> Contains het and slash; was written for the animal play challenge in kinkbingo.

Lion-O sat back, and closed his eyes. He'd done it. The shock when they'd told him he wasn't truly Lord of the Thundercats, not until he'd passed the tests, had been dreadful. He'd somehow thought -- he smiled at himself. Well. He'd never taken the easy route to the getting of wisdom. But he'd made it.

"Lord Lion-O?" The communicator distorted the voice badly. It sounded like it might be Cheetara, but he couldn't be sure.

"Lion-O. Is there something wrong?" He wasn't expecting to be disturbed -- everyone had departed for bed after the celebrations, and he had no plans except curling up and sleeping for a week -- possibly longer. The trials had really taken it out of him. It flashed through his mind that this would be the perfect time to attack the lair, and groaned.

A knock on the door startled him. He toggled the communicator again, and slid out of bed, reaching for the Sword of Omens. He didn't like this. Sure he was in his own bedroom, but -- no one had replied.

"Who's there?"

"Tygra," came a slightly muffled voice. "Can I come in?"

"Sword of Omens, give me sight beyond sight," he whispered, and looked through the Eye. It was Tygra, sure enough. He wasn't being held hostage. In fact, he had a bag slung over his shoulder, and was looking remarkably cheery. He lowered the sword and opened the door. It wouldn't hurt if Tygra saw him being cautious -- he'd gone on about it often enough.

"Lord Lion-O!" Tygra almost bounced as he came into the bedroom, and Lion-O frowned. Tygra lifted a paw, and Lion-O had a moment to see the palm stunner before a light flashed, and he fell to the floor.

\--------------

He wasn't in his bedroom when he awoke, though he was on a bed -- or at least, something that felt very bedlike. He kept still for a long moment, wondering if they were watching him, wondering what they had planned. If he could fake sleep, he might be able to work something out. He rolled, casually, or at least, tried to, but was brought to an abrupt halt as something cut into his wrist and ankle. He couldn't fake his automatic attempt to struggle out of the manacles around his wrists and ankles. Metal chimed on metal, and he swore.

"Let me out of here!" He couldn't see anything, and for a moment he thought that whoever had taken him had blinded him, but when he blinked, his lashes brushed against a blindfold, and he shuddered with relief. The darkness was only temporary.

He tried to sit up, and was thwarted at the first instant -- chains chimed, holding wrists and ankles securely. He was spreadeagle on his back, at the mercy of an unknown assailant. He exerted all his strength, but the chains held.

"Tygra? Tygra? It's me, Lion-O. Are you there?" He wanted to believe there was a good reason for doing this: perhaps Tygra was under someone's mind control. "Let me up? Please?"

"The cub's learned manners," a low, rough voice said. It took him a moment to recognise Panthro, there was an unfamiliar note to it; but he dismissed the odd lurch of his stomach, and turned his head towards the voice.

"Panthro? Is that you?"

"Aye." But that was all he said, and Lion-O twisted his body, pleading.

"Let me up? What's going on?"

"He asks us questions," Cheetara said. She sounded amused, as though she knew something he did not, and Lion-O swallowed. There was a kind of edge to her voice he had never heard before. The thoughts, the private, secret thoughts of a grown 'Cat edged back into his mind, furtive and shameful though they were. Cheetara was beautiful; more than his equal in wisdom and knowledge, and he had no business thinking of her as ... as only something to satisfy his own wants.

A hand brushed slowly from shoulder to hip, and he shuddered. His clothes were gone, and there was no sheet covering him.

"Traditionally, there would be one more," Panthro said. Another hand stroked, running up from ankle to thigh, against the grain and he shivered. "Another woman of rank. Two men, two women, to lead the way. One day, we may find more Thundercats, but for now, we cannot wait: we must finish what we began."

"I thought the five tests --"

"There is a sixth test." Cheetara's voice was very close, and she rubbed her cheek against his. He could smell her mark, the sweet, dense musk warming on his skin, catching in his fur. Another heavy face on his other side, marking him there too, and it took a moment to separate out the scent: bright and sharp, hot as the sun and as generous: Tygra.

He groaned, dizzy with the smell of the two of them; if he hadn't already worked it out, the next touch could not have made it clearer: a broad hand cupped his crotch and massaged firmly until his penis slid out of him, fully erect. The soft pads of Panthro's hand -- he couldn't even begin to work out how he knew who it was who played so knowingly with him, but the scents in the air were somehow as clear as any sight -- brought him so close, so quickly. He realised his hips were rocking, pushing up into Panthro's grip, and he gasped for air, barely able to follow Cheetara's words as she spoke again.

"This is not a test that you can pass with mind power," Cheetara said, gently. A hand on his arm held him still until he stopped straining against the chains that held him. "Or with feats of strength or speed. There is no evil to be defeated here, just fear itself." She paused, and chuckled. "Perhaps a little cunning. But we can work up to that." She licked slowly from the base of his throat to his mouth, and then kissed him, her body tight against his side, her hands firm on his head. "Power is not enough. You must also know how to lay down your arms, and find strength in vulnerability. Let us in, Lion-O, Lord of the Thundercats. Let us in." The last word came out on a growl, and he whined in response, high in his throat. She bit firmly at the side of his neck, and the sensation went straight through him, arching his back with want, his heels digging hard into the firm bedding beneath him.

These were his friends, his mentors. He loved them, all of them: trusted them. Would lay down his life for them. Was this so much more for them to ask? A hard hand on his chest pushed him down firmly and he shuddered and let go.

"Well done," Cheetara whispered, and pressed light, teasing kisses over his face and lips.

"Well done, cubling," Panthro rumbled. His hand moved faster, and Lion-O cried out helplessly as he came and came, something always before hidden in the dark of his own room suddenly taken out of his hands. His hands opened and closed fruitlessly, desperately seeking something to hold on to, and they were there. He couldn't hold them, but they held him, and it felt so good to be surrounded, no struggle possible, only heated touches and all his fight dissolved.

Panthro's hand was still cupping him, his grip on Lion-O's softened cock steady and strong, the very things that made him rely so much on his friend.

"I shall, shall take the sixth trial." He gulped air as a strong pair of fingers pinched one of his nipples, and tried very hard to keep on track. "How -- how can Iiiii!" A second hand had reached between his legs and pressed firmly, like nothing he'd ever felt before and he couldn't *think*. "Please? Help? Che-Cheetara? Tygra?"

"Yes?" they asked almost as one. He could hear the smiles in their voices. Panthro's hand tightened on his cock, and he writhed, unsure whether he wanted him to stop or keep going. It was too much -- but he couldn't bear to have it come to an end. "Pan-Panthro, please? Please!"

"You will," Tygra whispered into his ear, and kissed him deeply. Tygra's body covered Lion-O's, rubbing skin to skin, fur to fur, his tongue pushing in invading, pushing and retreating in a rhythm that Lion-O dimly realised matched the one his hips had found, a counterpoint to Panthro. He slid his tongue tentatively into the heat and wetness of Tygra's mouth, losing all fear, all expectation.

It was a surprise when Tygra shifted away, his hips no longer grinding into Lion-O's. He whined, and bit his lips. He had passed the first five trials: he was not a child to beg for a lost treat.

Cool lips pressed against his, gently at first, then shifted, sharp teeth nipping. "Don't hold it back, cub," Panthro said, far closer than he expected. "Give us your desires."

He shook. Panthro's hands were strong on his face, holding him quite still. For a moment the world narrowed to only that, and then he felt the bed dip either side of his hips, a moment later, wet warmth pushed down onto his cock, shocking him into jerking all over, tugging the chains at his wrists and ankles again.

Cheetara laughed, and the world resolved itself into shapes and forms again, she was astride him, moving easily over him, and he wished he could see, could touch, but he could only lie there and let them run their length.

He thrust up, pushing hard into her, unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Her skin was soft and slick, tight around him, and moving constantly, rhythmically, holding and holding and driving him higher. The two men were holding him, and still he moved, then shoved up hard, convulsing and coming into her. His face flushed with shame, over so fast, so little control, but she leaned forward and kissed him. "Again, Lord of the Thundercats," she whispered, "Again." What magic lay in her words, he could not say but he didn't soften, and she kept shifting on him, little twists of her hips, back and forth, up and down, until he knew that he was ready again. She must have seen it on his face, and her movements became deeper, lifting higher, pushing harder, their point of connection all the world, until something slick and narrow pressed between his asscheeks.

He gasped, but the finger, Panthro's finger, was stronger than tightened cheeks, and clenched hole, and slid inwards, finding and matching Cheetara's rhythm. A weight settled across his chest, knees pushing under his outstretched arms: Tygra, pinning Lion-O's upper body with his ass. He wasn't quite sitting on Lion-O -- he'd be afraid for his breathing if he were. But he's not going anywhere; something that becomes the more obvious when he presses two fingers to Lion-O's mouth, insisting on entrance. And once he has it, Tygra shifts forwards, leans over. Lion-O could feel the warm shadow of Tygra's strong abdomen curled over him, and could see, for all the blindfold hiding everything, the heavy cock just above his lips. He shuddered in a breath, and licked, taking a taste: salty, warm, wet. Alive.

He lifted his head up for more, sucked hard, pulling Tygra deeper into him and Tygra pushed slowly into his mouth; a hand behind his neck took the weight of his head, and he relaxed, his muscles loose, his body weightless. He pressed his tongue against the hard tip of Tygra's cock, licking, tasting, trying to get more of that flavour, and Tygra slid in, so far in, until Lion-O couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything except swallow convulsively around the thick head, and then drew back, slow, slow, moving with the absolute confidence of someone in total control.

Panthro pushed in closer, widening the splay of Lion-O's spread thighs, taking up all the slack in the chains around Lion-O's ankles. He shifted lazily against Lion-O, rubbing his hips firmly against Lion-O until Lion-O was shoving back against him. Cheetara ground her hips down, tightening herself around Lion-O, holding him still, and a moment later the fingers were replaced by Panthro's cock sliding into Lion-O, a long slow thrust the mirror of Tygra's. It ached and burned, Panthro's dick stubbornly hard, impossibly solid within him, and the world shifted until it seemed that he saw through the outward glass of their bodies to the minds, the wills, the desires within, and saw love, and desire, and more than that, knowledge. These three knew him, in every conceivable way, they knew him, and they were still here. Their bodies kept moving, but Lion-O couldn't think, couldn't separate out the touches and the words, the thrusts and the heat, all of it blended into something that he knew was his--

Lion-O was held securely, kept pinned almost motionless under three of them. He was starting to lose his grasp on his surroundings: too much sensation frying his mind, his memory glutted on skin and soft fur, and wet heat, and the constant, endless movement, slow, endless, rolling through him in steady beats, contrapuntal to his heart. And even that peeled away, until at the heart of it all was love, immutable and immovable, blended between them. Almost it seemed, that the smell of it was the smell of the power of the Thundercats themselves, the raw power of the Eye and the Sword, and that was too impossible, too much, and the Eye closed --

\-- and the world snapped back, bright and real. He jerked upwards, his hips driving into Cheetara, and he cried out helplessly, the sounds half-muffled beneath Tygra. He clenched hard, the loose muscles recoiling as tight as they had loosened, and arched into Panthro's hard rhythm, and came, and came.

A long time afterwards, a soft kiss pressed to his forehead, then Tygra drew back, settled on his left. His left hand was unshackled and kissed as well, with a low, "My Lord." Then Cheetara leaned down over him, her breath sweet and warm on his face. Her lips brushed over his, once, twice, and she too, said softly, "My Lord," and moved away, leaving him cold and exposed.

His right wrist was freed, and her body eased away to his side. Panthro didn't withdraw, but leaned forwards, his hips heavy between Lion-O's thighs, and Lion-O felt a gentle touch, a brush of Panthro's lips over his heart. A moment later the blindfold was removed, and he opened his eyes, smiling easily straight up into his friend's eyes.

Panthro regarded him solemnly for a long moment, but Lion-O knew Panthro wasn't judging or testing. The time for that was done. "My Lord," Panthro said last of all, with a small nod. Panthro smiled at him, happily and easily, and pulled back. A moment later the other shackles were undone and Panthro settled himself over Lion-O's chest with a soft grunt of contentment. Tygra and Cheetara tucked themselves in close to him, their breathing slowly coming back to normal.

Lion-O laughed softly. Their practice fights would never again be the same, with this newfound consciousness of the possibilities, adults playing together, not student and masters. They pressed in close, the warmth of their hard bodies beyond comforting, giving him a place to rest, a foundation, solid ground. He didn't know what to say, wasn't even sure he could speak, but it seemed they knew.


End file.
